I AM FREAKING OUT! Did you see last episode? I loved it, I really, really, really loved it. I had major JoanLock feels at the end and when she was taking out the bullet from his shoulder! So I wanted to upload this one.


Chapter 4

Sherlock Holmes stood frozen on the spot, his phone clutched to his ear as the shot still rang through his ears. His brain wasn't working properly, obviously, because he could think of nothing else but Joan and the fact that that man just shot her. He wanted to shout and curse and cry, but his body remained perfectly still. Joan, please be alive. Cars and birds and accidents happened all around him, but he heard nothing.

"I'm okay!" She wasn't. His imagination was getting the better of him. A voice was shouting at him in the distance. "Sherlock, are you there? I'm fine!"

And suddenly he was wide awake, his heart pounding in his ears, his blood boiling. "You've just made a grave mistake." he said to the man in a dangerously low voice.

"Oh relax, Holmes, she's fine! This was a warning shot. I'm not to be messed with!"

"No matter where you are, no matter what you'll do to hide, I will find you and I will end you." he hissed, his body and mind fully functioning again. This man, this monster just threatened the life of the one person that made Sherlock a better man. Very big mistake. In the back of his mind, he remembered his promise to Joan, but that was before all of this happened. Before he'd felt the pain of losing her. "And when I do find you, Joan Watson best be alive, or I swear to God I will make your ending extremely painful. Joan?"

"Yes, Sherlock?" She sounded out of breath and startled, and another spike of rage went through his body. He had never felt like this before, but it scared and fuelled him at the same time

"I'm coming to get you." And then he hung up. He looked at the screen while he paced towards the park where the killer bees had been. He had understood her clue perfectly. There was something with that park, something important to Joan. 17 missed calls Captain Gregson. Sherlock felt slightly guilty for leaving the man hanging like that, so he compiled a text message. W KBP. CU THERE 15.

Within the minute, he received a reply. SPEAK ENGLISH!

He huffed irritated. How hard was it to understand his message? Watson Killer Bee park. Meet me there in 15. There, that should be understandable. With the panic and the feeling of being so defenceless still coursing through his body, he raced towards that particular park, hoping that Joan would be there. Joan. Brave, courageous Joan, she was such a wonderful detective. Not only that, she was a wonderful woman. It would be a great loss to the world is she was killed.

Sherlock frowned as he realised something. He would suffer a great loss if she did die. That realisation shocked him. What was going on in his mind, why did it allow him to feel this way? He hadn't since...well, Irene.

At the thought of the name, a surge of anger went through him. Moriarty had already taken the one woman he cared about, why would he want to go after Joan? His phone rang, and he picked up without looking at the screen. "Yes?" he snapped. If this was another person trying to sell him something...

"If I were you, Mr. Holmes, I'd be a little more friendlier, seeing as I control the gun aimed at your girlfriend's head."

Sherlock froze yet again. This was happening way too often nowadays. "Moriarty."

"Yes, old friend." The man chuckled, and Sherlock felt the urge to throw his phone into a nearby pond. "Well, we find ourselves at a crossroads yet again, Mr. Holmes. But this time you have a choice. Your pretty, little girlfriend, or you."

Sherlock shivered lightly, but kept his voice calm and controlled. "I do not know what you are talking about, she is most certainly not my girlfriend."

Moriarty clacked his tongue on the other end. "Now, now, Sherlock, you should not lie to me."

Sherlock frowned. Why was this monster under the impression that he and Joan were a couple? That was utterly ridiculous! But worse, why was this monster presuming that Sherlock was lying? "I am not lying. I do not lie. I bend the truth, withhold things, but I do not lie." he said calmly. He barely recognised his own voice. Inside he was seething, screaming and cursing. "Joan Watson is not my girlfriend, we are not an 'item'."

Moriarty was silent for a long time. "Well, Mr. Holmes, congratulations, you have managed to surprise me. The way you looked at each other...ah well, no matter. You still care enough to hunt her down and safe her."

"You took one person I cared about from me. You will not take another." He stopped on the hillside where the killer bees were once, where Captain Gregson and Bell were already waiting. Sherlock shushed them with a finger and they understood. "I will find Watson. I will find you. And I will end your existence once and for all." His mind was racing with possibilities and different outcomes. A lot of them involved death, and only a few of them resulted in Moriarty's death.

Moriarty chuckled darkly, slowly driving Sherlock insane. "Manners, Mr Holmes. Your companion's life may depend on it. Now, if you'd be so kind to inform Captain Gregson that he should not meddle with this. This is between you and me. I can still shoot Ms Watson."

"He is currently working on a case, I cannot reach him." Sherlock said. His mind told him that it was not a lie, just bending the truth.

"I find that very hard to believe, Mr Holmes."

"Why?"

"Because he is standing right next to you."

Sherlock's insides froze, and his blood turned to ice. He whirled around his axis and scanned his surroundings. He could see them. The son of a bitch was watching them. "Where are you?"

"That's not part of the game, Mr Holmes." Before Sherlock could answer, the other side went dead.

Goddamnit! Sherlock nearly screamed in frustration. He threw his phone at a nearby tree, and it shattered into a million pieces. But he didn't care. How in the world was he going to find Joan Watson? He yanked his coat off and threw it to the ground. It was too hot, he couldn't think. His head was about to burst... "Hey! Holmes, what is wrong with you?!" shouted Gregson. Sherlock whipped his head towards him, intending to take all of his anger out on him and the detective.

But his mind stopped him. This wasn't their fault. It was his, and his alone. Like Irene, he had pulled Joan into his life. He had done this to her. And this would never stop. Until Moriarty was dead. Well then. That was decided. "My apologies, Captain." He pressed his fingers to his mouth to calm himself, and felt the stubble. He had forgotten to shave this morning. "A momentary lapse of good judgement. This man, he...he puts me on edge. What with my past..." He flailed his hand at his head to indicate exactly what he meant.

"What happened to you with this guy, Holmes? Why is he after you?" rumbled Gregson.

"I wish I knew." Sherlock took a deep breath and decided that it was finally time to reveal to Gregson what he had experienced in London. "Moriarty killed Irene Adler in London. She was someone I deeply cared about. It was what triggered my drug use ." His head pounded as it screamed at him. There wasn't time, he had to find Joan. He couldn't let any harm befall on her. "We haven't the time, we must find Joan before he kills her!" Sherlock turned away and started for the hilltop.

Gregson pulled him back, and he whipped around, anger boiling at the surface. "You have just shattered your phone into a gazillion pieces! You were about to take something out on me! What is wrong with you?!"

Sherlock took a step closer. Everything in his life was suddenly chaos. How was it possible that his head hurt more every second while he stood there and did nothing, while a maniac was threatening Joan's life? "What's wrong with me, Captain Gregson, is that somewhere in the most populous city of the country, my partner is being held hostage by some maniac!"

"Sherlock, just take it easy..." Detective Bell took his arm, but with that, he crossed a line. Sherlock felt himself balling his fist, turn around and punch Bell square in the jaw. It felt extremely good. At least he was doing something. The moment he did it, Gregson had his arms restrained behind him. The pain that went through his shoulder blades was excruciating, but he ignored it as he struggled to get free.

"Let me go, I need to find my partner!" He felt desperate, he couldn't focus, he couldn't...he couldn't think. Joan, dear, brave Joan, he had to safe her, he had to! He couldn't let her die, he couldn't. His mind was on overload and he just couldn't...!

"Holmes, you need to calm down RIGHT NOW, or I'm gonna have to throw you in a cell!" roared Gregson, as his arms were still locked tightly around Sherlock's as the latter attempted to escape.

Sherlock's mind recognised that he wouldn't be going anywhere if he didn't stop acting like an uncontrolled maniac, let alone would he be able to find Joan. Bell, in the mean time, had gotten back on his feet. "It's okay, Captain. Let him go."

Sherlock felt Gregson frown, more than he saw it, but his arms were released in the next moment. His anger was still solely pointed at Bell, for no apparent reason. Bell, who was now standing in front of Sherlock, arms spread. "You're angry. I get it. But the punch made you feel better, didn' it?" Sherlock nodded curtly. "Okay, so hit me again."

That stopped both Sherlock and Gregson. "What?"

"Hit me again, hard as you can. Come on, I can take it."

Sherlock shook his head, refusing to hit Bell again. The first time was a slip of good judgement, he will not do that again. "I will not hit you."

"Good, then you're back." Bell said relieved and Sherlock looked at him as if he'd gone mad.

"It was a test."

Bell nodded. "Whether or not to take you in protective custody. We won't."

Sherlock huffed. If they would have tried to lock him up, he would have taken them both down, and he wouldn't want to do that. He wanted the best Captain and the best detective of the NYPD on this case to find Watson. Not that he would ever in is entire life admit to having thought that. "I don't have time for this. I made a promise to Joan and I do not intend on breaking that promise!" He started making for the hilltop, and succeeded this time. His heart was beating a mile a minute. "CAPTAIN!" he suddenly shouted, and Gregson came running.

"Holmes, you're not acting like you." he said.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Yes, now that we have a firm grasp of the obvious..." He saw the Captain frown. "Sorry. I don't understand..."

Sherlock felt Gregson's hand on his shoulder, but it didn't make him feel better. His head was imploding. He was barely able to deduce anything. He...he'd lost hold of himself. That brought a shock with it. He'd lost hold of himself, just like with Irene, just like all those months ago. How was that even possible? "What don't you understand, Holmes? Talk to me."

"I don't understand why my head feels like it's about to explode. I don't understand why I cannot handle this stress. And what I, above all, do not understand is why, in this time of trouble, all I can think about is Joan and whether or not she is still alive." Sherlock grabbed his head and felt like tearing himself in two.

Gregson looked at his friend warily. "I have honestly never seen you like this, Holmes."

"And I have honestly never felt like his before, Captain." Sherlock said, gritting his teeth. "If you have an explanation, don't hesitate to share it with me."

"I think I do." Sherlock heard the hesitation in the Captain's voice. "Sherlock, what do you think of Miss Watson?"

"What do I - ?" Sherlock sighed. What the hell. He could just tell the man. "Joan is a very bright, skilful, kind woman. The likes of which I have never met before. She has great deductive abilities."

It was Gregson's turn to sigh. "That's your professional opinion. Now look into your heart. What do you think of your partner?"

Sherlock groaned and turned away from the Captain violently. That was the second time someone said to him to use his heart and the fact that he had a hard time dealing with that, frustrated him to no end. "I can't! My head deduces everything, my heart has absolutely no say in it. My head won't let my heart rule. Did that once, and I ended up in a rehabilitation centre." He started pacing in frustration.

"Holmes, you can't work like this. You have absolutely no focus. Just...alright, try this. Tell me what you're thinking when you're around her. When you spot her from the corner of your eyes. When you see her work. What does your mind tell you then?"

Sherlock stopped pacing and stared out over the park, forcing his mind to focus briefly. "When I'm around Joan, my body starts doing strange things. Make motions I don't want to make. I notice how beautiful she looks with her hair down, something I would never notice. How professional she is, no matter which job she performs. When I see her from the corner of my eyes, my heart pounds too hard to be healthy, my hands start shaking, my head starts buzzing. I don't control it, Gregson, and neither my body nor my mind understands what's going on. What you just heard was my deductive mind trying to make sense of it all, that wasn't my heart."

Gregson smiled and put a hand on Sherlock's shoulder. "No, but it told you exactly what the heart is trying to tell you. It just can't make sense of it, because all those reactions cannot be chemically or scientifically engineered or explained." He laughed a little. "What you've got, my friend, is a very bad case of something wonderful called love."

Sherlock wrinkled his nose and frowned. Love? No, he'd promised himself he would never do that again. "It can't be."

"And yet it can. You, Sherlock Holmes, are falling or have already fallen for your partner, Joan Watson."

Sherlock was frozen on the spot. It was impossible. He couldn't have fallen for Watson, he simply couldn't. He didn't work that way. Irene was the only one for him, how could he move on from her? But how else to explain what was happening to him? He couldn't. The reactions of his body were quite similar to the ones he experienced when he'd first met Irene. "It's not possible." He'd promised himself, never again. He wouldn't feel so hurt and lonely and vulnerable ever again. He waved off an annoying fly buzzing around his head and buried his hand in his pocket again. But if it was possible, and that was a big if, how could it be that he'd never noticed? How could his brain not have deduced that? "It's impossible!"

"I know you think that, but it isn't." Gregson laughed. He was laughing, and Sherlock felt a little pang of anger. This wasn't a time to laugh. He'd lost control of himself, his actions and his words. How was that possible? He waved at the fly again, which wisely decided to leave then. Gregson scratched his head, a little blush on his cheeks. He was going to tell something he wasn't really comfortable with. "Love, real love, it sneaks up on you. I should know, I've been married long enough. You can't fight it. You don't notice it. And when you do, it's too late. You're in too deep. That's what's happening to you now. You lose hold of yourself. When she's in danger, you lose yourself. You go crazy. When a madman threatened my family once, I went mad with rage. Nearly snapped the man's neck."

Neck snapping. Another way to kill Moriarty, or the kidnapper. "What are you saying, Gregson?"

Gregson huffed out a laugh in disbelieve. "For the brightest man alive, you're pretty stupid." Sherlock opened his mouth to protest, loudly, but Gregson continued, "I'm saying that you are past that point of no return. You are in love, whether you're going to admit it, or not."

Well, he wasn't going to, because he was not in love. He'd decided to shield his heart. Nobody was able to enter. Not without his consent. Period. "I need you to leave, Gregson. And I need your phone."

"Holmes..."

"I'm quite serious, Captain. He doesn't want you here."

"Well, he can forget it."

Sherlock closed his eyes and took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself. He really didn't have time for this. "Captain, he said he would kill Joan if you remained on this case." His voice was almost a shout. He extended his hand to the Captain and awaited the mobile phone. When Gregson didn't respond, he lowered his hand, irritated. "Captain, I am not about to risk Joan's life just for the sake of letting you join the investigation. And I need a phone, I need to be available. Now, quick as you can, please."

Gregson sighed, resigning and handing over his phone. "Holmes, before I go..." Sherlock looked at him, and saw something of amusement in his eyes. "You've said her first name 5 times in the past conversation. Never Watson. And God knows how often you've thought it. Just something to think about." Then Gregson turned and rejoined Bell, who had been waiting at the foot of the hill. Sherlock stared after him, his face blank, but his mind racing.

...We must find Joan before he kills her!...

...All I can think about is Joan and whether or not she is still alive...

...Joan is a very bright, skilful, kind woman...

...When I'm around Joan, my body starts doing strange things...

...He said he would kill Joan if you remained on this case...

...Captain, I am not about to risk Joan's life just for the sake of letting you join the investigation...

Six times. Not five, but six times had he said her name in the past conversation. He huffed, a cynical complacency coming over him. Gregson had counted wrong. But that did not lessen the magnitude of the fact that he indeed had said it, without even noticing it. There was something very disturbing going on with his mind. He needed to have it looked at, but not now. Now he needed to find Joan. He called her again, and was not surprised to hear her kidnapper's voice. "Is she okay?" he cut to the chase.

"Calm down, she is perfectly fine. For now. Why can't we reach you, Mr Holmes?"

Sherlock snorted. "Please, he'd know exactly how. I shattered it. Reach me on this phone number. Can I hear her for a second?"

The man laughed. Any other man would have thought it was a cruel laugh, but Sherlock heard what it really was. Nervousness. "Of course."

Sherlock gasped as he heard her yell out in pain. "No! Don't hurt her, I swear to God...!" His heart was beating like crazy, and his insides hurt at her pain. This wasn't right. This wasn't the way it should be, he was supposed to be the one to get hurt in this scenario. Not his Joan. Nobody was supposed to touch her.

"A warning from Moriarty, Holmes. Stay available."

Sherlock was panicking. "I will! I will, just don't...!" He quickly gathered himself, he needed to be in control. "Don't hurt her." he said as calmly as he possibly could.

"Stay available." Then he hung up and Sherlock had to contain himself to prevent himself from shattering yet another phone. He didn't even know what to do. What did Moriarty want from him?

But his phone rang, and without looking at the number, he knew it was him. He picked up with a sharp, "Yes," and heard him chuckle on the other side.

"Come, come, Sherlock, a little bit more chipper, please."

Sherlock couldn't believe his ears. Was this man actually suggesting that Sherlock had to be happy right now? He obviously had a lot to learn. "Just get on with whatever you plan on doing."

"You want to get to the main game?"

Sherlock was quickly losing his patience. "Sure, just say what you have to say."

Moriarty took a long inhale of breath. "Well, Mr Holmes, you are an enigma, you really do surprise me." Sherlock had to bite his tongue in order to not prolong this any longer. "Well, then let's get this show on the road." Sherlock stored in his brain that this madman liked to play games and stretch things out. Might come in handy one day. "Your pretty little girlfriend is in New York, but in three hours, she won't be. If you do not want her to be dead by the time you see her again. You will do exactly as I say." He inhaled deeply again, and chuckled. "You have three hours to find a white house, with a white door. In that house and behind that door, I will be waiting for you. Fail to report to me there at 11 am sharp, and Joan Watson is dead. Call the good-old Captain, or that annoying detective, and Joan Watson is dead. Am I understood?"

"Yes, yes! Jesus."

Moriarty chuckled. "Alright, Mr Holmes. Tick tock." The line went dead and Sherlock immediately ran. He knew Joan was here, he'd always known. But he simply could not risk her life. Her life was more important above all. He thought about Gregson's words, but shook it off.

It just wasn't possible.

He had to find her, he had to safe her.


Huge thanks to: Animegal809, Orison, Jane Q. Doe, CAMMIE, Lady Imara, River, , Guest, Mochi-girl, marshmallowdeviant, Angelical love, Dustyfog416 and James Birdsong for reviewing on last chapter! You guys are the best!